


A Dance (Just for You)

by Kimium



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brief forced eating, Brief mention of starvation, Brief violent outburst, Canon Divergence for Awakening, Forced Dancing, Grima kidnaps the Awakening kids, Held Hostage, Henry as Inigo's father, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Minor mention of Chrobin, One Shot, Platonic Cuddling, Power Imbalance, emotional torture, slightly open ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 19:26:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15892545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimium/pseuds/Kimium
Summary: One shot."There was no music nor was there a prompt for Inigo to begin. Grima never prompted him, though he always stopped Inigo whenever he wanted. Instead it was all on Inigo. He couldn’t start too soon or too late. If he did, Grima could be upset and that wasn’t anything Inigo wanted."All trauma will heal over time, but some things will forever stick to their minds.In where Grima briefly kidnaps and holds the Awakening kids hostage for his amusement and entertainment, Laslow's memories of dancing forever soured, and the aftermath of the event.





	A Dance (Just for You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!!
> 
> I think I came up with this AU while driving... that seems to be my motif every so often, huh? Anyways I had a TON of fun with this AU and I really liked coming up with the things Grima did to them (or mainly Laslow, though I do have some sprinklings of ideas for the others). I hope you enjoy this story! 
> 
> I don't know when I'll get to writing again as work will be very busy for me these next couple of months, but I will do my best!!!
> 
> For the first time in a while I decided to write Grima with male pronouns and also explicitly state him as Lucina and Morgan's father. Don't read too much into it. My explanation for Lucina and Morgan existing is "Magic."
> 
> Please feel free to leave kudos and comments! And, as always, if you want to message me on tumblr or check my tumblr out it's right [here](http://www.kimium.tumblr.com).

For the first time in a week Inigo had a bath. Or rather, escorted to a spacious bathroom and told he had ten minutes before the Plegian soldier slammed the door so loudly the sound vibrated in the air and through the floor. Inigo didn’t waste time. He had learned. Swiftness was key. When the Plegian soldier told him ten minutes they meant ten minutes. Throwing his dirty clothes to the cool tile floor, Inigo hopped into the tub and sorted his priorities out first. Reaching for the shampoo on the side, Inigo ran it through his hair, cleaning it as best as he could before dunking his head back into the water. It was easy, as the tub could easily fit three Inigo and still have space. The shampoo drifted off his hair and polluted the water with the subtle smell of something floral. Inigo made sure his hair was completely free of shampoo before skipping the conditioner and moving onto the soap. Scrubbing his body as best as he could, Inigo made sure to clean his nails and feet especially well. Then, he hopped out of the tub, grabbed the towel (which was the cleanest piece of cloth he had seen in a week) and dried his body before locating the new set of clothes.

This time the dancer outfit was completely Ylissian style and Inigo was thankful. Regna Ferox style was lighter, looser and with the shifting of seasons Inigo didn’t want to shiver as he performed. Almost on autopilot, Inigo put his clothes on, fumbling a bit with the metal bits. As he did so the door opened and the Plegian soldier was there. Inigo let his arms fall limply to his sides and hoped that he’d have a moment to adjust the clasp over his chest before they reached the throne room.

Without a word the Plegian soldier turned, expecting Inigo to follow. Inigo did, feeling his body shake and shiver as they moved through the stone hallways, towards the throne room. Once Inigo had tried to fight back, not follow. There had been no beating but for a week after Grima picked at random one of Inigo’s friends and didn’t let them eat. Guilt had been his punishment and Inigo never defied Grima’s requests again. How easy it had been to break his rebellious stage. Guilt was an emotion Inigo was becoming all too familiar with, along with despair. Survival while fighting to live came in all shapes and forms. This survival had a lot less weapons and a lot more dancing.

Well, at least for him.

Soon the stone hallways ended and they were in the main entrance. An elaborate staircase dominated the right side of the room and the walls began to arch high above their heads. The giant carved door for the throne room loomed like a beacon of despair. Inigo swallowed thickly, wished his mouth didn’t taste of ash and nerves, and watched as the Plegian soldier tapped on the door before opening it with a loud creak.

Inside the throne room a chill filled Inigo. It crept up his body and into his lungs. The space was wide and there was a balcony at the end. Inigo could close his eyes and see dances and banquets, hear the laughter and music. Reality smashed the illusion and all there the hall held was emptiness, silencing and oppressive, and Grima, lounging on the throne. Lazily Grima tilted his head up and eyed Inigo as he walked in. His jacket was off, thrown messily over the back of the throne. Grima’s legs were hooked over one of the chair’s arms and his head was half tilted back. A bowl of fruit was at his fingertips, except the only fruit Inigo could see were apples, stark red and pink. One of the apples was in Grima’s hands, a bite already out of it. Inigo looked away and tried to ignore the grumble of his stomach.

“Out.” Grima ordered the soldier.

The soldier didn’t say anything, just bowed and left, shutting the doors behind him. Inigo remained frozen in front of the throne, arms at his side. Exhaling slowly Inigo tried to steady his nerves. This was it. His turn to entertain Grima.

There was no music nor was there a prompt for Inigo to begin. Grima never prompted him, though he always stopped Inigo whenever he wanted. Instead it was all on Inigo. He couldn’t start too soon or too late. If he did, Grima could be upset and that wasn’t anything Inigo wanted.

A shiver ran, tingling down Inigo’s arms and legs. Inigo lifted his arms, ignoring the tingle, and slowly began to dance. Closing his eyes, Inigo thought of the tune, the beat playing in the background. It was a dance he didn’t usually dance, but one he had liked to try with his mother. He’d dance it outside when the weather was nice, sunny, just the two of them. Her laughter and pleased smiles always warmed Inigo and made the moment special.

Inigo hated that he was souring the memory for Grima, but he didn’t have a choice. Survival came in many forms and sacrificing a dance in order to keep his friends safe was worth the price. Opening his eyes, Inigo tossed his head and turned smoothly, humming softly under his breath. His voice wasn’t the best at singing, but it was pleasant enough that Grima never stopped him. In fact, Grima seemed more interested in his apple than Inigo’s dancing, but Inigo knew otherwise. The possessed red eyes were fixed on the apple, but there was no doubt Grima was watching.

Throwing himself into the dance as naturally as he could, Inigo continued, remembering the steps, remembering the arm movements and the turns. He could see his mother off the side watching him and that gave Inigo the strength to continue and finish the dance perfectly.

When he finished, Inigo’s chest was rising as he gulped in air. Holding his pose for a moment, Inigo didn’t wait as long as he usually did for an applause. Grima never gave those unless he meant it mockingly. Silence, as Inigo had learnt, was the best reaction he’d ever receive from Grima.

Moving into another dance, Inigo chose a Regna Ferox style, one that was a bit faster and a bit sharper than the one he just performed. Shame he didn’t have any tambourines or bells to add to the dance, but Inigo made due with what he had. When he finished a few minutes later, sweat was pouring down his brow and his lungs felt like they were about to burst. Grima by this point had finished his apple, tossing the core up before burning it with a flick of his wrists. Inigo waited another second, before deciding another dance was probably in order. He straightened his back and prepared to start when Grima lifted his one hand, stopping Inigo.

“Come here.” Grima ordered.

Inigo’s legs felt heavy, but he did as Grima asked. Moving closer to Grima, Inigo walked until Grima stopped him with a look. Inigo could feel the heat of Grima’s gaze and hated how it burned into his skin. Trying to hide his shaking, Inigo stood as still as he could, waiting.

“Kneel.” Grima ordered.

Inigo’s legs automatically collapsed, his knees hitting the hard tile of the throne. Grima watched dispassionately before hooking his legs down and back on the floor, sitting properly. He then leaned closer and curled his hand into Inigo’s hair, his pink locks, and tugged Inigo closer. Inigo’s head hit Grima’s stomach and soon another arm wrapped around Inigo’s head, hand draped near Inigo’s shoulder.

“Good work.” Grima cooed. “Such passion. You’ve really been working hard, haven’t you?”

Grima’s fingers played with Inigo’s hair, stroking it down like he was comforting a child. The action reminded Inigo of Olivia, how she always used to hug and hold him in her lap when he was young. The touch should be of a parental figure, warm and loving. This was anything but parental or loving. This was a mockery of it and the mockery cut into Inigo. He wanted to pull away, rip Grima’s touch off, but Inigo couldn’t. All he could do was stay kneeling on the floor, his head against Grima’s stomach, and let Grima tear at his childhood memory. A childhood memory of parental love and affection.

“Though, you’ve always been so shy.” Grima chuckled, “I remember Olivia telling me how you used to not even let her see your practice.” His fingers continued to tangle into Inigo’s hair. “Shame you can’t take that back, right?” Inigo could feel the smile on Grima’s face. “You’ll never be able to dance for your parents again. You’ll never be able to make the selfish choice of keeping your talent away from the world ever again.”

Grima’s fingers then curled harshly into Inigo’s hair. He tugged Inigo back and tilted his head so Inigo had to look into Grima’s cruel, delighted red eyes. The joy and amusement didn’t hurt nearly as much as the words Inigo had to hear every time he danced for Grima. The words wormed and festered into his heart with each passing moment they dripped from Grima’s blood stained lips.

“But don’t worry Inigo. I’ll watch your dances.” Grima told him with such a perfect smile it was wrong on his lips. “I’ll be the only one to watch your dances now.”

He then let go of Inigo’s hair and shoved Inigo away. Stumbling back Inigo scrambled to his feet, watching Grima take an apple out of the bowl. He offered it to Inigo and frowned only lightly.

“I don’t remember telling you to stand.” Grima scolded him. “But it doesn’t matter.” He then tossed the apple to Inigo.

Inigo grabbed it and held the fruit gingerly in his hand. Grima then turned and hooked his leg over the arm of the chair again. “Eat it.” Grima ordered. “Eat all of it and then you can go. Stand, sit, I don’t care, but you’re not leaving until the fruit is consumed.”

Inigo’s stomach churned harshly as he looked at the fruit. It was food. He needed it, but his mind rebelled against eating in front of Grima. Still, he couldn’t disobey. Eating in front of Grima was a challenge, but Inigo didn’t want to spend any more time with Grima. Falling to the floor, Inigo sat down and turning slightly so he didn’t have to look at Grima entirely, began to eat.

The first bite was juicy, sweet, and coated his tongue. The apple’s juice ran down his chin and his hand. Inigo chewed and swallowed harshly. Staring at the single bite out of the apple for a second, Inigo opened his mouth and forced himself to take another bite.

It still tasted sweet, sweet and wrong.

~

They hadn’t always been Grima’s captives. Or part of his collection, as he once put it. Captive implied battery and pain. Captive would have been easy to understand, easy to fall into the label. With the label of captive Inigo would have understood the parameters of what was expected of him. Collection on the other hand held unknown expectations, expectations that Grima set up himself, not letting anyone fully understand what it meant. Though, within the months Inigo had been trapped he slowly had gathered what collection meant. Like an item meant to be on display, Grima rarely physically hurt them. The Plegian soldiers were forbidden to touch them unless the situation was dire. No, they were meant for Grima to play and toy with. Others could look at them, but only Grima could touch them. He had collected them, made them part of his twisted collection and they were now his. Not Grima’s captives, but rather his dolls on the shelf or china in the china cabinet.

Inigo was like the ballerina in a music box, always dancing for Grima. That’s all he did now. Inigo either danced or was stationary, locked in a luxurious room when he wasn’t needed. Sometimes Inigo could see the others, curl into their embraces and close his eyes, wishing they could escape. Wishing they could either kill Grima or rewrite time.

After Inigo finished the apple, he was escorted to the room where he could see everyone. He hadn’t changed out of his dancer outfit but Inigo didn’t care. Upon seeing his friends, Inigo hobbled over to them and collapsed half on top of Owain and half on top of Gerome. Everyone else looked up at Inigo and curled just a touch closer, like they wanted to swarm him. Owain’s hands, ones that used to tug at his hair or rudely tease him, curled warmly over Inigo’s shoulder’s, holding him close. Gerome grunted but didn’t stop Inigo from curling into him as well. At Owain’s other side, Severa turned her head to look at him. Inigo reached out and touched Severa’s side gently before flopping his hand over Owain’s leg.

“How was it?” Owain softly asked.

“I danced.” Inigo dully informed everyone. “He made me eat an apple before leaving.”

In the past that sentence would have sounded utterly ridiculous, but now it held the weight of trauma, of being stuck and forced to bend to Grima’s whims.

“Lucina, Morgan, and I are going to have some family time this evening.” Owain offered, like telling his experience gave access to knowing what was in store for the rest.

“Good luck.” Inigo genuinely said.

Owain tried to smile, but it fell short, becoming a ghost of a smile. “Thank you, Inigo.”

When the guards came to whisk Lucina, Morgan, and Owain away they also made the rest of them go back to their rooms. Inigo had no energy to even attempt a defiant look but at least Severa scowled up a storm, Laurent sighed like the entire situation was a bother, and Gerome stoically stared. It was enough to cover for everyone. Even if they didn’t outwardly fight the guards, some defiance made the situation a little more palpable. It was a small glimmer or something and Inigo took it.

The walk back to the rooms was quiet and uneventful, except when Lucina, Morgan, and Owain parted with the rest. Everyone took a moment to give them a look, trying to convey their comfort without speaking. The three nodded, acknowledging them, before they were whisked away, down the same hallway Inigo had been down earlier. Seeing it sent a shiver down Inigo’s spine and he averted his gaze, following the soldiers until he was at his room.

Inigo’s room was fairly large, with a soft bed, silk sheets, a small table, and a small bathroom off the side. Waiting until the guards were gone, Inigo immediately stripped, careful to fold the dancer outfit neatly. Setting the dancer clothes on the table, Inigo then changed into some looser clothes before he grabbed his pillow and sheets. Curling on the floor beside his bed, Inigo laid down, covering himself. Sleeping on luxury provided to him by Grima only made Inigo feel sicker. Sleeping on the floor, while harder and less comfortable was a much better alternative. Closing his eyes, Inigo slowly fell asleep, mind too exhausted to conjure dreams (or nightmares).

~

Inigo never received the chance to ask Lucina, Morgan, or Owain how their “family dinner” with Grima went, but when he was summoned to dance only a two days later, Inigo hoped that wasn’t a sign that something went wrong. Grima usually left him alone for a week after seeing him, sometimes even two weeks. He liked to cycle through them, torment them all individually. Except for Lucina, Morgan, and Owain. Those three were the only ones to go in as a group. Inigo didn’t know if that was better or worse. All he could do was wash up, dress, and follow the soldier to the throne room.

This time Grima was pacing around the room. That alone made Inigo freeze up, but upon seeing him, Grima stalked over, his presence taking up all of Inigo’s air and composure as he loomed closer.

“Leave us.” Grima hissed at the guard.

Once again, the guard left without a word. Inigo tried to stand still, but it was hard with Grima in proximity. It became harder when Grima shot a look at Inigo and grabbed him by the arm, tugging him closer. Up close Inigo could see the subtle shift in red tones reflected in Grima’s eyes and the paleness of his skin.

“Your little friends weren’t behaving.” Grima told him. Which friends, Inigo wasn’t sure but he had the suspicion it was Lucina, Morgan, and Owain. Again, not that he could ask. “I’m in a foul mood.” Grima added as a warning before stepping away from Inigo.

Keeping Grima’s warning in his mind, Inigo tried to dance as best as he could, blocking out his swirling thoughts, but with Grima’s gaze more intense on him, Inigo found himself slipping up more than he usually did. Still, he managed to get through at least one dance before Grima sighed and grabbed him again, tugging Inigo roughly and throwing him to the ground. Inigo hit without bracing himself and it hurt, pain running up and down his body.

“Pitiful. I should have known you’d mess this up.” Grima sighed before he stepped harshly on Inigo’s back. “Is that the best you can do? No wonder you never dance for others.”

The pain from the fall and Grima’s foot on his back was nothing when compared to the words. Inigo thickly swallowed and tried to keep his voice even. “I’m sorry. I’ll try harder.”

“Try?” Grima’s foot came down heavier. “That’s the best you have?”

“I will.” Inigo spilled out. “I promise…”

Grima’s foot left Inigo and then a hand wrapped around Inigo’s arm, pulling him harshly up. Inigo staggered a little and regained his balance as quickly as he could. Grima twisted Inigo’s arm a little and stared at him.

“Dance better this time little one.” He said. “Or I’ll be very cross.”

He let go and Inigo could feel the bruising form. Swallowing Inigo nodded and exhaled sharply. Focusing, Inigo tried to still his racing heart by slowly moving before working up into a slightly faster dance. It went over well and when he finished Grima was at least sitting on the throne. Nothing was said but Inigo took it as a good sign. He then danced some more before Grima stopped him. A guard then came in, as though summoned silently and lead Inigo out. As they left Grima turned to them and called out with a dull tone.

“Bring the red head girl in next.”

Severa. Inigo’s heart twisted and ached but he couldn’t do anything to stop Grima. The only bright spot in the encounter was Grima not forcing him to eat. Inigo wasn’t sure what that said about him but he didn’t care.

~

When evening hit, Inigo was jostled awake by the sound of his door opening silently and shutting silently. Scrambling up Inigo immediately held his pillow like it could defend him. However, that proved unnecessary as Severa plopped down beside him. Her hair was loose and her cheek was swollen and red. Inigo wanted to touch her, but noticed her body shaking. Instead Inigo stood up and grabbed the second pillow off his bed and handed it to her.

“Here.” He softly said.

“I don’t need your comfort.” Severa muttered softly. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Her arms trembled as she hugged the pillow to her chest. Inigo didn’t say anything and just nodded. “Let’s sleep.”

Severa looked at the floor and at the bed before laughing breathlessly. The sound shook a little but hearing any form of laughter from Severa made Inigo feel a bit better.

“You sleep on the floor too.” She commented before flopping down, adjusting the pillow.

Inigo flopped down beside Severa and covered them with the blanket. “Good night.” He muttered softly.

“Good night. I’ll be gone by the morning.” Severa warned.

It was for the best. Inigo nodded and slowly drifted back to sleep. As he fell asleep Inigo felt Severa slowly cling to him, curling closer. Inigo didn’t move in fear of spooking Severa.

~

Like she promised, Severa was gone by the morning. Inigo yawned and stretched, waking up just in time for a soldier to open his room and demand Inigo follow him. Rubbing his eyes Inigo did as asked and was lead to a small dining hall. He blinked a bit rapidly upon seeing that everyone was slowly being gathered there. It was rare for them to eat together, but whatever happened last night with Grima he must have been in better mood. It was painful to know that better mood probably came at the expense of Severa being smacked around and belittled, but Inigo wasn’t going to dwell on it. Severa wouldn’t want him to.

When everyone was there the food was served. It was more than they usually received and Inigo didn’t waste the gift. He grabbed what he could, making sure there was enough for everyone else, before eating. As the soldiers moved to keep watch outside, Lucina carefully leaned closer. The table was so small that leaning over like that was unavoidable. However, instead of just grabbing something else to eat she spoke quickly and quietly.

“Naga appeared to me, in my dreams.” She told them.

Inigo tried to not jerk at the information and instead shoved a bread roll into his mouth.

“I promise I’ll help get us out of here.” She added softly before grabbing some fruit and sitting down normally.

Everyone shifted a little and Inigo felt something ripple through their group. The stagnant air that had surrounded them was slowly shifting. It wasn’t fixed, nor were they free, but the feeling of hope spread softly among them. Inigo swallowed his bread roll and drank a bit of water in order to mask the excitement Lucina’s news brought them.

~

A week passed. Inigo danced for Grima again and didn’t mess up. Grima actually gave him a lazy smirk and once again forced Inigo to sit down and eat another apple. Inigo wasn’t sure why it was an apple again, but he wasn’t going to ask. It still was hard to stomach and when he finished Inigo was more than happy to leave.

Lucina hadn’t mentioned or said anything when they met up again, even if their meetings were brief. Inigo mostly kept to himself but had inklings of what was happening, such as Brady playing the violin for Grima, or Laurent forced to spend an afternoon discussing magic theory with Grima. Inigo also saw more bruises and scrapes on people, especially Severa and Cynthia. Grima never tortured them or broke any bones but Inigo knew from experience Grima didn’t need such barbaric tactics in order to hurt them. All he needed were words and sneers, full of glee when he saw their spirits crumble a bit.

Another week passed. Inigo danced for Grima two times in the same week, once with Brady softly playing some music in the background. It was a nice change of pace and Inigo tried to focus on Brady, like he was dancing for him and not for Grima. The session ended with Grima once again forcing them to eat before leaving. Inigo was starting to hate apples.

Then on their third week, Inigo was summoned to see Grima, but not in his dancer clothes. It was such a change in pace that it almost made the anxiety worse. Inigo’s mind was racing to why Grima wanted to see him and not ask him to dance. The anxiety grew into a dark pile when instead of going to the throne room, Inigo was led to a bathroom.

Inside was Grima, who was leaning against the countertop. Upon entering he once again shooed the soldier away and turned his attention to Inigo.

“Sit here.” Grima ordered and pointed to a chair.

“Why?” Inigo gently asked, not confrontational, just curious.

Grima still scoffed but answered him. “Your hair is growing too long. I’m cutting it.”

The statement made Inigo blink and his mind screech to a halt, reasoning temporarily not functioning. “You want to what?”

“I’m cutting your hair.” Grima repeated with a small edge to his tone. “I don’t trust those imbeciles to do the job right. Sit down now.”

Inigo eyed the chair. It was by the sink and there was a mirror. Inigo wouldn’t be blind to Grima’s actions, at least not entirely. There was no way out of this so Inigo just sucked in a breath and walked over, plopping down in the chair. Grima gently set a towel over Inigo’s shoulders and ran his fingers through the pink locks. True to what Grima had stated earlier, Inigo’s hair was longer than he usually kept it.

“Just like your mother’s hair.” Grima commented.

It was an innocent comment that Inigo had heard so often growing up for a moment it almost made the scene feel normal. Then Grima turned the chair around and shoved Inigo backwards into a small bin of warm water. Forced to look up, Inigo watched as Grima washed his hair with ease, fingers gentle and smooth. The shock at the actions caused Inigo to let out a strangled sound. Upon which, Grima just sighed.

“I used to wash Morgan and Lucina’s hair as children.” Grima informed Inigo.

Hearing Grima interchange being Robin so casually hurt Inigo. He remembered Robin for who he was: kind, caring, sharp, and witty. Robin wasn’t what Grima was and Robin wouldn’t hurt them like Grima was doing.

Inigo then made one of the biggest mistakes since letting himself get captured. He spoke.

“You’re not Robin.” The words slipped out of his mouth.

There was a pause, a calm before the storm, before Grima’s eyes flashed and he grabbed Inigo roughly by the hair and tossed him across the bathroom with strength not befitting a human form. Inigo smacked harshly against the wall and tub and felt the bruising and pain. Before he could speak, Grima was holding him tightly around the throat, pinning Inigo against the wall. His eyes were wild and Inigo tried desperately to kick or claw Grima’s grip off his throat, but it was useless.

“Why am I hearing those words?” Grima hissed at him, squeezing tighter. “Robin is me and I am Robin. There is no distinction. He’s my vessel and just because his conscious is dead doesn’t mean I don’t remember.” Grima’s voice wasn’t shouting, but it was getting stronger. “Stop pathetically clinging to who Robin was.”

He then slammed Inigo harshly against the floor again and again. “First my daughters!” Grima hissed. “Then my nephew!” He threw Inigo against the door at an angle. The hinge cut into Inigo’s arm. “Now you!”

Grima then harshly kicked Inigo’s shoulder. Inigo gasped out and while nothing felt broken, he knew that if Grima wanted he could break his shoulder or his arm. His neck was already bruised and his arm battered. Inigo didn’t want anything else happening so he silently choked up an apology.

“I’m sorry.” Inigo gasped out, “I didn’t mean it…”

The weight of Grima’s foot grew and for a moment Inigo was sure Grima would break his shoulder, but then Grima backed away.

“Get up.” Grima coldly told him. “Sit down and if I hear anything from you I’ll have one of your friends starve for a couple of days. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” Inigo forced himself to say.

“Good.” Grima returned to the chair. “Come here.”

Inigo wobbled up and winced at the bruises he knew were forming. Hobbling over he sat down harshly and let Grima manipulate him over to the sink. He resumed washing Inigo’s hair and when that was over Grima easily twirled the scissors and began to cut Inigo’s hair with efficiency. Inigo’s body protested at sitting still for so long with the bruises and his arm was stinging but Inigo sat as still as he could until Grima finished.

“Take a look.” Grima ordered.

Doing as Grima told him, Inigo looked at his reflection. Grima had cut his hair perfectly. It was exactly how Inigo liked his hair. Grima smiled and then turned Inigo around, kneeling slightly. “Now your bangs. Sit still.”

This was harder than having Grima behind him. Inigo tried to not stare at Grima, but it was impossible to not. Grima didn’t pay attention and when he finished he stepped back and titled Inigo’s chin, eyes darting around, like he was examining Inigo.

“Perfect.” Grima breathed out and stood up. “Now clean up this mess.” He gestured to the bathroom.

There was hair on the floor and a bit of blood from where Inigo’s arm caught on the door hinge. Inigo knew that if he protested there would be more of a mess to clean up, probably blood knowing Grima’s moods.

“I will.” Inigo agreed. It was the easier option. He moved to get the broom he knew was in the small cleaning cabinet in the corner when Grima stopped him.

“What do you say?” Grima asked, like Inigo was a child forgetting his manners.

Inigo swallowed. “Thank you for cutting my hair.”

Grima smiled and reached out to pat Inigo’s hair. “Good boy.” He praised before leaving.

Inigo shook at the words, they felt like a brand of compliance and it hurt, but there was no other choice. Shaking it away, Inigo moved onto his job of cleaning the bathroom.

~

“Your hair.” Owain said when Inigo saw him a day later for dinner. He was early and it was just the two of them. “It’s cut.”

“Grima did it.” Inigo offered as an explanation, gingerly sitting down, wincing when it still hurt regardless of how gentle he moved.

Owain caught the wince. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m not.” Inigo protested before he sighed. “I just said something I shouldn’t have. He smacked me around a little. No worries.”

“That is a worry.” Owain retorted and sat down beside Inigo. “What did you say?”

“I…” Inigo paused. “I told him he wasn’t Robin.”

“Ah.” Owain looked down and rubbed his arm a little. “I may have spat those words at him before. Sorry. I should have let everyone know that’s not something to say to him.”

“It’s fine.” Inigo said. “It’s not your fault.”

Owain’s look darkened. “It is. If only I was stronger, a real hero…”

Inigo’s heart ached and he knew with a painful burst of clarity that Owain was merely repeating words thrown at him over and over again. Reaching out, Inigo lightly touched Owain’s hand.

“You are a hero.” Inigo softly said.

Owain only stiffened under Inigo’s touch. “If you say so…”

The tone hurt Inigo, so low and defeated. He squeezed Owain’s hand and wished he had something more encouraging than just repeating himself, but that was all Inigo had.

“You are a hero. I promise.”

Owain gave a crooked smile. “Yeah…” His voice was soft, like he didn’t believe Inigo.

Inigo didn’t call him out.

~

The next day Grima didn’t call for Inigo, but during breakfast Inigo watched as Nah and Yarne were taken away, Nah, with her head held up high and Yarne shaking and he clung to Nah. Inigo’s heart twisted and he wished he could stop Grima. He couldn’t. None of them could.

Then later, as Inigo was trapped in his room with nothing to do he heard the guards return Nah and Yarne before taking Noire. Inigo gripped his pillow and threw it against the wall in frustration. Lucina’s words still swirled in Inigo’s mind and he never would call Lucina a liar, but Inigo wished they could have an update to her plan. Sitting in the dark was painful and Inigo hated that it was all he could do.

~

Things changed the next day, for the worst.

Morning started out as usual and breakfast ended with Lucina, Morgan, and Owain being brought to Grima. Inigo didn’t think anything of it, and silently wished them luck for their “family meeting."  Things were quiet after that, only mild conversation about breakfast when the castle suddenly shook.

Inigo yelped and immediately lunged to his side, clinging to the first person he could grab. That person ended up being Gerome who already had a Yarne clinging to his other side. Inigo opened his mouth to apologise when the castle shook again and the sound of something large cracking filled the area. The sound rang hotly in Inigo’s ears and it took him a full minute to realise that it wasn’t a natural disaster but rather something else. His heart spiked and Inigo glanced at the door.

“Sorry.” He unwound his arms from Gerome. “I think… something is happening in the throne room.”

“Y-you think?” Yarne poked his head out of Gerome’s side. “Maybe… we should stay here?”

“Or we can check it out.” Severa said. “Look, the guards aren’t here.”

True to her words, the guards had abandoned their post at the door to their dining room. Inigo didn’t waste time. He leapt to his feet and ran down the hallway to the throne room. Guards were clumping outside and no one stopped them from barging past to peer at the entrance to the throne room.

Grima was on his feet. The floor to the room was cracked and smoke was billowing out from his feet. Half of a wing was protruding on his back and his eyes glowed. Lucina was half kneeling on the ground, holding her side. Her hair was messy and Inigo saw some blood drip down her face. Morgan was at Lucina’s side, arms hovering over Lucina’s form, ready to touch and hold Lucina back. Owain was standing still, his hand trying to grasp at a sword that was no longer there. Grima wasn’t taking loudly but his voice echoed enough for Inigo to catch the tail end of their argument.

 “…Pretty words that ultimately are hollow.” Grima told her. “Do you think this is how we raised you?”

“We?” Lucina stood up and shakily pointed her finger at Grima. “You’re not my father! My parents are dead! You killed them both. I promise you we’ll end you and take back our futures!”

“Lucina…” Owain snapped out of his silence.

“I’m…” Grima snarled and then he was in front of Lucina, hand around her neck. “I AM Robin!”

Grima’s voice bounced harshly and more smoke picked up before it felt like a gust of wind was enveloping the entire room. Inigo couldn’t hear more and when the wind died down Lucina was on the floor coughing and gasping. Owain and Morgan were also on the floor, groaning as Grima stepped harshly on their backs for a second before kicking Lucina over, forcing her to lay on her back.

“Your futures are in my hands.” He hissed down at them before turning to the door. Inigo froze on the spot. Grima’s eyes were wild, cold, calculating. He scoffed at them all before whipping his gaze to the guards.

“Take her to the dungeons.” He kicked Lucina again. “And take the rest of them to their rooms. Don’t let them eat.”

Inigo was once again helpless as the guards dragged them back, shutting them in their own dungeons. It wasn’t technically a dungeon but with the function of their rooms it might as well be. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Inigo tried to calm his beating heart. Lucina would be fine. She had to be. Grima wouldn’t actually kill them, right? Though who was to say he wouldn’t hurt Lucina more?

“Useless.” Inigo gasped to himself. “You’re so useless, useless, useless…”

Falling off the edge of the bed, Inigo cupped his hands on his face and felt tears run down his face. Their situation toppled over him and once again Inigo felt himself crack.

~

True to his words, Grima didn’t allow them to eat that night. He didn’t allow them to eat the next day either. Inigo managed by drinking some water from his sink tap and trying to sleep more in a futile attempt to ease the hunger pains.

When the third day arrived, the guards came and took them to their dining hall. Lucina wasn’t there and Inigo’s heart dropped. He opened his mouth to ask the guard, but then like a coward, he kept silent.

Instead he curled closer to Owain and Severa, wishing everything was different. Owain looked paler than the rest of them and Inigo squeezed his hand in reassurance.

“Lucina’s fine.” Inigo said even though his words desperately tried to become tangible.

“I… I told her to not say that on the way over.” Owain gasped out. “I’ve made the mistake. Then you made the mistake. Then Luci…” Owain’s voice cracked. “She…”

Slowly, disregarding how the table was set up, Inigo tugged Owain closer. The angle was awkward and Owain’s elbow was half on his thigh, but Inigo didn’t care. He clung to Owain tightly. Soon he felt everyone gravitate towards them, disregarding the food for a moment. His stomach protested loudly, but Inigo forcibly told it that comforting Owain was the top priority.

~

The rest of the week was rough on them all. Inigo didn’t dance for Grima so much as avoid his temper and fail. Bruises piled on bruises and when Grima was done, he dragged Inigo to the door and practically kicked him out.

Inigo stumbled and fell to the ground, adding to his bruises. He however, didn’t give Grima or the guards satisfaction in seeing him cry.

Then, at the end of the week, Lucina returned. Her arm had clearly been broken and mended given how she was cradling it. Her face held no bruises but that meant nothing. Inigo wanted nothing more than to descend on Lucina and cling to her, but that could agitate her wounds.

Instead Inigo watched as Lucina moved away from the table and sat on the floor. It was invitation enough. Soon they all were on the floor, cradled in a large, warm pile. Inigo tried to remember the last time they indulged like this but couldn’t. If the guards cared, they didn’t say anything and Inigo wouldn’t have cared if they did. At this point they’d have to physically pry them apart.

“I’m sorry.” Lucina whispered. “I’m so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay.” They said. All of them. In varying tones and ways.

Lucina smiled and then softly cried. “I promise.” She said between her tears. “We’ll be fine.”

~

_Inigo didn’t remember falling asleep but he knew he was dreaming when he saw a figure so bright, so divine that he knew it was Naga. Around Naga were all of Inigo’s friends. The space around them was distorted, covered in constellations and soft light. Naga lifted her hand and Inigo automatically took it, bowing clumsily. Even if it was a dream, Inigo didn’t want to be rude._

_“My children…” Naga’s voice was low. “My poor children. I’m sorry you’ve suffered so.”_

_Inigo tried to tell Naga it was not her fault but words weren’t spilling out of his lips. He couldn’t speak. Instead Naga kept on talking._

_“We do not have much time. Grima’s powers are very strong so I shall be brief. Your time line is distorted, dark magic everywhere. However, there is a way to right the wrong and fix the future.” Naga turned to Lucina. “I’ve spoken only a couple times to Lucina, however this is a choice all of you must make together.”_

_A choice. Inigo waited to hear what it was._

_“I can send you back in time, back to before the calamity. There you can stop Grima and rewrite this time line for the better. However, all of you must take on this journey. This journey will have you rewrite the time line and never face Grima again.”_

_Never face Grima again. Inigo wanted to burst at the thought. He’d never have to dance for Grima, never have to starve because of Grima. There was no choice to be made. Inigo knew what they had to do._

_“However,” Naga continued, “by doing this you’re displacing yourselves, creating an alternate future. When you finish you’ll be relics of a timeline abandoned, displaced in a happier future as alternate selves.”_

_Displaced. They’d create an alternate timeline, an alternate future. A future that would have alternate versions of themselves grow up happy and without losing their parents or fighting a war. Inigo’s heart hurt. He knew what Naga was warning them about. They’d be forever displaced in time. There would be no going back._

_The price was worth it. Inigo looked at Naga and knew his and everyone else’s answer. Perhaps if things were different someone might have protested, not sure if they would go. Inigo would never know. Naga smiled gently and Inigo knew that she knew their choice._

_“Remember,” Naga said as the scene around them turned brighter. “The future can be changed.”_

_Inigo nodded and felt the light blind him. Things shifted and Inigo felt himself falling without control before his mind slammed back into his body._

~

Gasping Inigo fumbled up and noticed he wasn’t in his room on the floor. He was in a field of grass and trees. The breeze was warm and the sun was shining. Silence filled the area and Inigo was acutely aware he was alone and with minimal clothing. Moving to stand Inigo’s fingers brushed across a sword. He stared. That had to be Naga’s doing. Standing up gingerly Inigo waited a long moment, as though he expected the scene to blur and he would be back to being Grima’s captive. When it didn’t happen, Inigo picked the sword up and slowly began to walk. First, he needed clothes and food. Then he could sort out everything later. Sure, he didn’t know where the others were but Inigo knew that they were with him somewhere and that they’d be reunited. Until then, he had to press onward.

~

Seeing his parents again sent all sorts of emotions fluttering through Inigo’s heart. His mind and body froze and Inigo felt overwhelmed by the emotions, unable to pick one to feel. It made words tumble out of his mouth awkwardly and clumsily. His parents didn’t care. They walked over and held him tightly. The smell of Olivia’s favourite shampoo and magic waffling off his father waffled over him. Inigo felt a rush of sadness and happiness smack him so harshly he couldn’t see for a moment. Then the tears rolled warm and fat down his cheeks as he cried. Inigo broke down and cried, seeking their warmth, their protection. Inigo didn’t care if anyone saw him. He had spent far too long crying to himself in the cell of a room.

“M-mother.” Inigo wept. “F-father…”

Naga’s words floated in his mind, how this was creating an alternate reality and technically these weren’t his parents. His real parents were dead, but Inigo didn’t care. He just clung to them and cried his heart out. They didn’t push him away or ask. They just held him with their unconditional love. It made Inigo cry harder. He cried until his head hurt and his throat ached. Sobs still wracked his body but when Olivia reached into a side pocket and grabbed him a handkerchief, Inigo accepted it, wiping his face.

“It’s all right now.” Olivia gently said. “Let’s talk properly after we’re back okay? Come, let’s rejoin the army.”

“It’s good to see you, Inigo.” Henry added.

Shakily Inigo stood up and looked over at the army. They had given them space, which Inigo was grateful for. With a smile to his parents, Inigo slowly walked over to the army, mentally trying to brace himself. Scanning the crowd, Inigo spotted Lucina and Owain already there. He then spotted Cynthia a moment later. Wherever the others were, Inigo hoped they were either there or would be found soon.

“Olivia, Henry.” Chrom stood in front of them. “And?”

Chrom. Inigo couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Chrom. It felt like a lifetime ago. The Exalt was young, younger than Inigo had ever seen him, but he still radiated confidence and strength. Inigo swallowed and hoped he didn’t look too terrible from all his crying.

“I’m Inigo.” He introduced himself.

“I’m Chrom.” Came the automatic reply before Chrom gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I’m assuming you already knew that. Come, you can meet everyone later, though, you must know them already, right?”

Inigo nodded and was about to say something about it when he saw the flash of white hair. Inigo froze on the spot and couldn’t help the whimper escaping his throat as he saw Robin walk over. Sure, Robin was young, bright, and radiated goodness and warmth. His eyes were not red and his smile was genuine and not smirking. No malicious intentions came from Robin but Inigo couldn’t help it.

Everything slammed into his brain at once. The dancing, the beatings, the words, everything horrible that Grima had hurdled at him. Inigo’s vision blurred and his mind spun. He couldn’t hear what anyone was saying and could barely feel his parents’ touch. Swallowing all Inigo could taste was the sweetness of apples. His stomach couldn’t take it and Inigo doubled over, throwing up bile on the grass, mind spinning and world out of focus as he did so.

~

Seeing Robin hurt and Inigo didn’t mean to avoid him, but he did. It was better this way. Olivia and Henry never asked why and no one else pushed. Robin respected the distance and Inigo couldn’t help but wonder if Lucina had managed to say something to him or not. Regardless, Inigo didn’t care. A small voice spoke in the back of his mind that talking to Robin would help bridge the gap, help him disconnect Robin from Grima, but every time Inigo looked at Robin all he could see was the face of his tormentor.

How horrible that, in the end, Grima was right, and Robin was a part of him just as he always said.

~

Olivia and Henry didn’t leave his side for the first few days. Inigo loved it and he did his best to focus on telling them the lighter stories, the better times. They never pushed to learn what had happened, but Inigo sometimes slipped up. He tried to keep the basics but sometimes it was hard to bottle everything up. They just held him tightly and warmly, comforting Inigo in a way that didn’t force him to speak if he didn’t want to.

~

The nightmares came, as Inigo expected they would. His mind always burning with the fear that everything was an illusion and he was still Grima’s captive. He woke up screaming a lot, legs twisting in the blankets as his hands clawed at the edges. Then, when Inigo could calm himself down, he’d feel the lumpiness of the mattress and the stiffness of the blankets. It grounded him a little.

~

Sometimes Inigo would sleep with the rest of them, Owain at his side and Cynthia clinging to his back. Lucina would join and curl closer to Owain. When more of them were found they suddenly found themselves sometimes sleeping in a large pile, half of them falling out of the bed. None of them cared the first night but then the next day another bed was shoved together. They didn’t always sleep together, but it was comforting to know that the option was open.

~

When he wasn’t sleeping and experiencing nightmares, Inigo threw himself into their battles, hoping to distract himself. Holding a sword again took some time, but battle was a harsh teacher and soon everything rushed back to him. Inigo preferred it that way. Battle was battle and using a sword made him feel like he was in control again. When they finished and advanced, Inigo savoured the aches and pains of victory and reminded himself that he was free.

~

Their final battle with Grima ached at Inigo’s heart. Every nightmare, every dance he had to perform for him burned in his skin as he tightly clenched his sword. Grima gave them wicked smiles and even though his words were pointed to Chrom and Robin, Inigo knew that the smile was for them. It made Inigo feel transparent, like Grima knew they had told only the bare minimum and that the rest was some sort of sick secret between them and him.

Inigo’s knuckles hurt as he tightened his grip on his sword. No. This time they would not fall. They had avoided so many events already. Time was being rewritten and this future would not be tarnished by Grima. They would win and create a better path.

~

They won.

~

Time blurred afterwards and Inigo felt lost. So many years had been focused on the war that he didn’t know what to do. For a few months he stayed with his parents, unsure of how to fit in now that their mission was complete. He knew they loved him but as Naga warned them earlier, there was no place for them.

Soon, they all sort of drifted. People would come and go, leaving for a while and returning. A pattern set and soon one day Inigo found himself wandering around with Owain and Severa, acting as hired mercenaries. The job paid well and it kept his mind busy from the nightmares that still crept up and the feeling of being displaced in time. He didn’t know how long this job would hold their attention, but Inigo was slowly doing things one at a time. No need to plan everything.

And then, like a bolt from fate and destiny itself, they met a hooded figure who went by Anankos.

Suddenly Inigo felt ashamed at himself for dismissing the boring life of peace and freedom but helping others (even when he still felt lost himself) was the only choice that would sit well with Inigo.

So, they hopped through time and space once more and were given new names and looks. Inigo was shed and Laslow was born. It felt strange, like a new beginning with an old character. Nothing in the past had changed but here he was, pretending to be someone new.

Laslow shook his head. It didn’t matter. They had to help Anankos and keep their promise.

~

When Laslow became Prince Xander’s retainer officially he was given new clothes and his own private room. The room was spacious enough for one person, walls made entirely of stone and floor of wood. A decent sized bed sat in the room, sheets smooth and mattress comfortable. Laslow tried to lie on it but froze up, his mind reeling and shaking at the comfort. Suddenly he was trapped again, forced to dance over and over…

Bolting off the bed Laslow took his pillow and blankets and slept on the floor.

~

Despite all three of them retainers now and busy with duties Laslow still tried to find time to see Odin and Selena. Sometimes it was briefly, with them sitting at dinner, or sometimes it was long, like it was that night. They sat outside, a large blanket wrapped around them as they stared out into the sky. Laslow had brought a flask of tea from the maids and passed it around, grateful for the extra warmth.

“We will win.” Selena suddenly said. “We’ll keep our promise.”

The curse hung heavy over their minds but it was easy to pick up what Selena was trying to say. Laslow nodded and sipped his tea. “We won’t let them down. We won’t let anyone suffer.”

“We’ll…” Odin paused. “We’ll be heroes.”

Laslow’s mind flashed to a conversation he and Owain had all those years ago in the broken time line. Reaching out he touched Odin’s hand. “You are a hero. We are all heroes."

“Right.” Odin nodded.

Selena rolled her eyes but a small smile graced her lips.

They stayed outside until it was too late and cold.

~

Some days Laslow barely thought of what happened. He was busy working for Lord Xander and then training and working out. Then sometimes it hit him hard.

That was how his week started. To be fair, it wasn’t Peri’s fault that she was the instigator.

Laslow woke up from the floor and felt like his head was spinning. The tail end of a dream (or nightmare?) lingered in the back of his mind and no matter how hard Laslow tried to locate it, he wasn’t able to catch a solid image. Groaning he put his blanket and pillow back on the bed, washed up, changed, and left for breakfast.

Peri was at the stove instead of the usual maids and Laslow chalked it up to Peri being in one of her moods. Baking and cooking were passions she gleefully (and more importantly didn’t end in violence) enjoyed and no one was brave enough to stop her when she was in one of her cooking moods.

“Morning Peri.” Laslow greeted, plopping down at the table. “What are you making?”

“Porridge!” Peri cheered. “Warm, sweet, delicious porridge!” She half sang before grabbing a bowl and scooping some out for Laslow. “Here you go!”

It smelt nice and Laslow accepted it. On the table Peri had left a small container of brown sugar. Laslow picked up a spoon and decided to try some before adding anymore sugar. Taking a spoonful, Laslow took a bite. For a moment it tasted wonderful, perfectly sweet and not too soggy before he tasted something else. It was fruit, slightly crunchy and sweet. Laslow thickly swallowed.

“Peri.” He started, his voice sounding distant. “Did you put fruit in here?”

“Oh yeah!” Peri seemed pleased he noticed. “Apples! They’re slowly being harvested and I didn’t want them going to waste…”

Laslow’s mind froze and he scolded himself. There was barely an apple taste. It was masked by cinnamon and sugar and milk. He was being ridiculous…

_“Eat it. Eat all of it and then you can go. Stand, sit, I don’t care, but you’re not leaving until the fruit is consumed.”_

The sound of porcelain breaking filled the room and Laslow distinctly heard metal fall too. Peri whipped her head around and Laslow found himself staring at her with ease, not having to crane his head. It took him a long moment to realise it was because he was standing up. The table had porridge on it as well as the floor with the broken bowl and spoon lying in the mess.

“I’m…” Laslow’s mouth felt woolen. “I’m… sorry. I’ll clean that up.”

He scrambled to pick up the porcelain pieces and cut his hand in the process. Laslow winced but didn’t stop until he disposed of the pieces properly, ignoring how the white was tinged pink with his blood. Peri had long abandoned her post at the stove and was cleaning the table, her brow furrowed.

“Laslow, are you feeling okay?” She asked. “Do you need to see a cleric?”

“I… yeah.” Laslow sucked in a breath. “Sorry about that Peri.”

Leaving the kitchen, Laslow went to the medical wing and let the healers fix his hand. No words rang in his head and Laslow hoped it was just a one time thing. He would just have to be more careful in avoiding apples for a while.

Deciding to shove the morning aside, Laslow went to start his day proper. Xander had eaten already and with no doubt a list of things to do Laslow hoped his day was filled with work. Heading to Xander’s office, Laslow knocked on the door and waited to be summoned inside.

Xander was already dressed and had some papers on his desk. However, there was a crinkle to his forehead and cloud over his eyes that felt heavier than usual.

“Milord, I’m here for duty.” Laslow politely said.

A beat passed, one too long for it to be normal. Laslow almost spoke again when Xander coughed and had a small flush on his cheeks.

“My apologies, Laslow. Corrin was sent on a mission today and I was just thinking.”

Corrin, the isolated royal sibling? Laslow didn’t comment and just let Xander continue.

“Here are your tasks.” Xander handed a list. “I trust you’ll get them done timely.”

“Thank you, milord.” Laslow took the list and smiled when he saw he had a ton to do. It would help distract him from the slip up of the morning. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you Laslow.” Xander said. “And please, don’t get distracted in town.”

Laslow summoned a cheeky smile even though he wasn’t one hundred percent feeling it. “No promises, milord.”

Xander sighed and Laslow excused himself before focusing on his tasks. The morning blip would disappear by the end of the day. All he had to do was focus and the rest of the day would go over well.

~

Laslow returned from town to hear that something had happened regarding Corrin’s journey. The delicate peace of the castle was broken and Laslow knew from experience that something was shifting and changing.

~

Corrin left both Nohr and Hoshido. Laslow had never seen Xander look so lost. Laslow wanted to comfort Xander, let him know that he too knew what that feeling felt like but it wasn’t his place.

That night Laslow went to sleep on the floor and dreamt of Ylisse on fire and Grima clutching his face telling him to dance.

Laslow woke up sweaty with a half scream on his lips.

~

Battles were fought. Words exchanged. Laslow took the back seat and watched as Corrin spoke words laced with knowledge that couldn’t be shared on their plane of reality. Laslow watched in agony as he wanted to agree with Corrin and prove to Xander that they could trust his sibling.

He couldn’t. All he could do was try to support Xander and hope that Corrin’s words broke through.

~

They did.

~

Laslow couldn’t help but look at Odin as they jumped down the canyon into Valla. The world was just as silent and broken as they had last seen it. It sent a shiver down Laslow’s spine. It was both familiar scenery without being familiar. Valla was at least not on fire so Laslow silently added that to his list of “things that are somewhat good.”

~

That night as they all sat together as one, they indulged just a little. Battles and fighting were good and seriousness was also needed, but they could only plan and work hard for so long before they cracked. Laslow wasn’t sure who’s idea it was but next thing he knew there were bottles of alcohol being passed around and soon laughter and music filled the space. Laslow smiled and tapped along to Azura’s upbeat melody and drank when something warm was passed to him. It was only when the floor was cleared and Elise dragged Sakura to dance that Laslow saw others slowly join in or watch fondly on the sides.

His mind derailed and Laslow couldn’t watch it. He had barely thought of dancing since he had been thrust back into battle. Deep down Laslow’s heart ached and he wanted to dance with the rest, but he couldn’t. His legs both wanted him to dance and to run away. His world spun softly and soon the scene felt murky, voices being replaced slowly with Grima’s low tones.

Bolting up, shaking, Laslow did his best to exit smoothly. Once he was outside he walked a bit away from the dining hall before throwing up violently behind a tree. Tears clung to the corner of his eyes as he threw up more and more. The smell didn’t help him and when he finished emptying his stomach, Laslow flopped down on the clean side of the tree and inhaled sharply.

“Laslow?” Odin was suddenly beside him.

“Odin.” Laslow slowly breathed. “Sorry.”

“Lord Leo noticed your exit and I volunteered to see how you were doing.” Odin told him. “I can tell them you just ate something bad.”

Laslow gave a shaky smile. “Thank you, Odin.”

Odin nodded and sat beside him, curling closer. Laslow leaned into the touch and closed his eyes briefly. Feeling Odin beside him along with the cool night breeze helped. His mind still spun in circles and Laslow knew he wouldn’t sleep well alone tonight.

“May I sleep with you?” Laslow asked.

“Of course.” Odin agreed without hesitation. “Of course.”

They stayed outside for a little while longer before Laslow’s ass felt numb. Odin stood up and helped him stand. Laslow wobbled a touch but stretched as he stood.

“Go back to my quarters.” Odin said. “Selena and I will be there shortly.”

“Thank you.” Laslow knew Odin would deliver the lie about his condition with ease.

“Never a problem.” Odin assured.

Laslow waited until Odin was gone before he walked silently over to Odin’s quarters. Stepping inside Laslow saw that Odin had a bed that was not standard for someone of his position. It was lumpy and worn. Laslow breathed a sigh of relief and flopped down on the bed, savouring the scratchy sheets and lumpiness. He was asleep before Odin and Selena came back.

~

The next morning Laslow woke to Odin half on top of him and Selena hugging him tightly from behind. No dreams lingered in his mind and Laslow was grateful. Sitting up he carefully dislodged them from his body and walked over to the small bathroom off the room. Washing up Laslow straightened his wrinkled shirt and decided he could walk to his quarters, change, and then find Xander.

Slipping out quietly Laslow was almost there when he saw Xander walking out, dressed and ready for the day. Their eyes met and Laslow gave a small smile and wave.

“Good morning, Lord Xander.”

Xander walked over, his eyes soft and careful. “Good morning Laslow. How are you feeling?”

Of course, if Odin told Lord Leo then he told Xander. Laslow gave his best smile. “I’m feeling better. It was just a minor bout of sickness. I’m all better now.”

Xander slowly nodded. “I’m glad to hear. Please, come see me after breakfast. We have much work to do.”

“I understand.” Laslow said and was about to leave when Xander suddenly reached out, lightly touching his shoulder. “Lord Xander?” Laslow stopped.

“I…” Xander’s eyes narrowed slightly, his cheeks a bit pink. “I want to remind you that if anything is bothering you I am here, to listen, if you wish.”

Laslow stared and felt his cheeks pinken too. The honesty, the unstripped words between them weren’t of lord and retainer but of friends. His heart pounded and Laslow wanted to leap in glee. Something warm blossomed in his chest and in a brief instant of insanity Laslow wanted to tell Xander the truth behind his illness.

That warmth was instantly squashed by cold logic. He couldn’t do that. That would reveal too much. They had a mission. Laslow couldn’t just go spilling his trauma to everyone. They all had trauma and his was no more important than any one else’s. Unnecessarily telling everyone would be uncouth.

Still, he couldn’t brush Xander’s concern aside. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Laslow settled on. “Thank you, milord. If I may be excused?”

Xander nodded and Laslow whisked himself away to his quarters, shutting the door softly. Standing in his room, Laslow exhaled softly. His chest was half open and Laslow could see his clothes half sticking out. He’d have to fix that later. For now, he needed to change. Quickly Laslow located some clean clothes. As he moved the clothes aside to pull his clean shirt out, Laslow spotted something sheer and pink. He froze. It was his mother’s dancer’s sash. Touching the material Laslow could see the entire outfit, see the type of dance his mother would perform… see himself dancing for Grima…

Violently Laslow shut the chest’s lid and with it the memory. Slowly breathing out, Laslow stood up and changed quickly, his fingers numb. The memory floated painfully in his mind, not quite a specific memory but rather the impression of many memories. The urge to throw up and close his mind off the outside world welled inside of Laslow before it mixed with Xander’s concern spoken not moments before.

It both hurt and comforted him. Laslow finished changing and shoved it all aside. There wasn’t time for him to dwell in the past. They had a war to win. He had to be there for Xander. Then, maybe, when they finished, Laslow could give himself a moment to break down and perhaps, if Xander’s offer was open, speak honestly.

But it wasn’t the time now.

Exiting his room, Laslow shut the door firmly.

**Author's Note:**

> Dancer Outfits: I headcanon that each region has different styles of dancer outfits.
> 
> Grima: I wrote Grima with male pronouns as well as being Lucina and Morgan's father. Don't think too hard about it. My explanation is: Magic.
> 
> Pink!Haired Laslow: I love pink haired Laslow so much. Too much.
> 
> Henry: I decided to make Henry Inigo's father. I really like Olivia/Henry as a pairing.
> 
> Corrin: Decided to write with gender neutral pronouns


End file.
